


Scottish

by katieelizabeth



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s08e02 Into the Dalek, F/M, Post-Episode: s08e01 Deep Breath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieelizabeth/pseuds/katieelizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara wants to know why the Doctor is Scottish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scottish

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little idea that wouldn't go away.  
> All of the parts in italics are taken from the actual episode.  
> Sadly, neither the Doctor nor Clara belong to me.  
> Please read and comment or leave kudos if you like x x

She couldn't stop staring at him. 

It was the first chance she’d got to really look at him.  Since he’d changed it had been manic, what with the crashing Tardis and the dinosaur in Victorian London and then the half-faced man.  He was so different.  Before he’d been child-like and sort of cuddly, now he scowled owlishly at everything and everyone.

“Why are you Scottish?” she asked suddenly.

The Doctor looked round wildly at her.  “What?”

She tutted loudly.  “I said, why are you Scottish?  I mean, you weren't Scottish before, so why are you now?”

“Well, why are you short?”

“Oi!!” she exclaimed, giving him a shove.  “I am a perfectly normal height.”

“Yeh, for a hobbit or a Sontaran.  You and Strax are practically twins.”

“Hey!  If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” she snapped, glaring up at him.

He fell silent, flapping out his coat and slipping his hands in his pockets.

They walked on through the random street in Glasgow, well he’d said it was Glasgow but they could be anywhere, though from what she could hear of the conversations going on around her, most people sounded Scottish.

“I don’t know.” he said suddenly.

“What?”

He sighed irritably.  “I don’t know why I’m Scottish.  I never know why I sound like I do or where the faces come from.” he paused before continuing.  “Clara?”

“Yeh.” she turned to look at him, only to find that he was a little way behind her with a strange expression on his face.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, walking back to his side.

“Have you seen this face before?  Before you saw it on me, I mean.”

“No.  Should I have?”

“I don’t know.”

Clara bit her lip.  “Why?  Have you?”

“Maybe.  I think.  Yes.  Yes I have.  Can’t remember where…” he huffed and slapped himself on the head.  “…stupid brain, it’s still a bit scrambled.”

“Rebooting you said, in the larder.  How-how long does that usually take?”

“Varies from regeneration to regeneration.  Couple of days, maybe a week.  This one is unprecedented though so all bets are off.” he said swiftly, striding off again.

She hummed, hurrying after him.  “It is important?  Your face?”

“Who knows.”

“Has it happened before?”

“Yes.”

“Was it important then?”

“No.”

“Well then…” she said bracingly.  “…don’t worry about it, probably just a coincidence.”

“Hm, probably.” he’s quiet again for a while. 

Clara risked a quick glance at him, his brows were furrowed and he looked angry.

“Amy was Scottish.” he mumbled, almost to himself.

“Who?”

He looked down at her.  “Oh…Amy.  An old friend.  She used to travel with me.”

“Oh.” she avoided his eyes, fixing her gaze on the paving slabs beneath her feet.  “Is that why you’re Scottish?”

“Nah.  Don’t think it works like that.  Anyway, I’ve been Scottish before.  A long time ago now.”

She hummed softly.  “Well, maybe lots of planets have a Scotland.”

“Maybe.” he replied, smiling tentatively at her.  “Or maybe I just felt like being Scottish.”

She smiled back.  “Maybe.” an involuntary shiver passed through her, she wrapped her arms around her torso, suddenly realising how cold it was.  “Time for that coffee, I think.” she said, nodding at the small, inviting looking café they were standing outside.

“Agreed.”

They hurried over to the café, she stepped gratefully into the warm as he held the door open for her.  There was an empty table, tucked away in the corner so she headed for that, pausing to dig into the small pocket in her skirt.  After a bit of wrestling, she extracted a crumpled five pound note and held it out to him.  “You’re fetching remember.”

The Doctor huffed.  “I told you, I’m not the fetching sort.”

“And I told you, that you don’t get a vote…” she waved the money at him.  “…coffee, go get.”

He took the money grudgingly and turned around, stomping off to the back of the shop.

“Don’t be long, yeh!” she called after him, giggling to herself when he spun round, continuing his long strides backwards.  Saluting smartly at her, he turned back around, almost knocking into someone carrying a huge mug of coffee, he scowled at them and carried on. 

Still smiling, she turned back to the table, easing her phone out of her pocket and sitting down.  According to the time and date on the screen, it was the 30th of December 2013.  She’d been gone for five days and by the amount of voicemails and text messages she had from her dad, she had definitely been missed, but then she _h_ _ad_ completely disappeared during Christmas dinner.  She wondered whether she should listen to them or just call home, but what would she say.  ‘Hi dad, sorry for disappearing, funny story actually.  The man I said was my boyfriend got a new face, we crashed in Victorian London, there was a dinosaur and some robots and now I’m in Glasgow.’  No, definitely not.  She’d wait until she was home and then give him a ring, maybe she could persuade the Doctor to drop her back a little bit earlier, say the 26th or something.  That would be better than almost a whole week later.  And school would be starting in only a few days, she still had so much to do for the new term.  Her eyes lingered on the voicemails, she was tempted to listen but it would only upset her so she deleted each one, stuffing the device back in her pocket.  Distracting herself with a bit of people watching, while keeping an eye out for the Doctor.

The time ticked on, soon fifteen minutes had gone by and he hadn’t reappeared.  Clara frowned, leaning over in her seat to try and get a better view of the counter, but it was no good, she still couldn’t see anything.  Sitting back with a huff, she began tapping a staccato rhythm on the table top with her fingernails.  How long did it take to get two cups of coffee?

Fifteen minutes became twenty, which became thirty, which became forty.  After forty-five minutes she’d had enough, getting up, she marched to the back of the shop, rounding the corner which had hidden the counter from her.  The queue was short, only three people waiting and there was no sign of the Doctor.  Her heart began to speed up and her chest tightened.  He had to be here, he had to be.  He wouldn’t just…not again.  Not now.  Ignoring the small line, she strode straight up to the counter which earned her a chorus of annoyed muttering.

“Excuse me.” she said to the woman serving.

The woman spoke in a broad Glaswegian accent.  “There’s a queue, you know.”

Clara winced and peered round at the disgruntled people behind her.  “I know, sorry…I don’t want to buy anything I just have a question.”

“This isnae tourist information, lass.” the man she’d pushed in front of said.

“Aye, that’s next door…” the woman replied.  “…what can I get you sir?”

The man started to speak but she cut across him.  “Has a man been by here?  A man with grey curly hair and angry eyebrows and…” she cast around for something else, something which would stick in someone’s mind.  “…a coat!  A black coat with a red lining, bit like a magician.”

“No.  Sir?”

The man tutted.  “I’ll have…”

She interrupted him again, ploughing on despite their growing annoyance.   “Do you have toilets here?  Somewhere he could’ve gone?”

The woman frowned darkly at her.  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Clara had no choice but to do as she said, turning around, face burning as she left the café.  Her eyes prickled with tears as she retraced their steps, the only thought in her mind was to get back to the Tardis.  Maybe he’d got bored waiting and slipping out without her noticing.  Yes, that was it, he was there.  Absolutely.  She sped up slightly, making sure she looked out for any familiar shops.  The walk seemed to take forever but finally she reached the boarded up shop they’d landed next to but there was no Tardis.  “It was here!  It was right here!!” she muttered, spinning round in a circle.  “Where is it?”

With shaking fingers, she pulled out her phone and dialled the Tardis.  It just rang and rang.  She redialled.  Still nothing.  “Answer the phone, Doctor!” again and again she tried, but every time it just rang out.  In the end she gave up and stumbled back to the boarded up shop, leaning against the wood, blinking back tears.  He would come back.  He would.  He had to.

After waiting for almost two hours she realised that he wasn’t coming back.  He was gone.  He’d left her again.  Still trying desperately not to cry, she peered at her phone and dialled a different number.

He answered before the second ring.  “Clara?”

“Hi Dad.”

“Oh love!  Where are you?  We’ve been so worried!”

With that, she burst into loud sobs.

* * *

Clara closed the classroom door softly, still smiling as she made her way to the store cupboard.  Danny Pink really was very sweet, a little awkward and shy but sweet.  It’d been a long time since she’d had a date, what with work and the flying around time and space, she hadn’t exactly had the time.  She supposed it would be nice to have some normal back in her life.  To enjoy a drink with someone without worrying that three headed aliens were about to burst in or that the planet was about to burn.  Yes, some normal would be good.  And Danny was a million miles away from a certain Time Lord that she hadn’t seen, and had been avoiding thinking about, for three weeks. 

She still couldn’t believe he’d abandoned her _again_ and left her to find her own way home from Glasgow.  Bloody Glasgow!!  The phone call to her dad had been, unusual to say the least.  She’d cobbled together a story about following her ‘boyfriend’ to Scotland only to be told to get lost when she’d got there.  Her dad had been brilliant, when she’d said that she had no money or credit cards on her, he’d got the earliest and fastest train to Glasgow, met her at the train station, paid for her ticket home and let her cry on his shoulder all the way.

Lynda had been furious when they’d got back but for once her dad had ignored her.  He’d run her a bath and insisted that she stay for New Year, probably because he was worried she’d disappear again.  She even caught him sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.  New Year had been ok, though that time of year always made her feel sad and more aware of the time passing.  Lynda was mean-spirited as usual, making pointed remarks about her pale skin, short, stubby nails unperoxided hair and inability to hold on to a boyfriend but her Nan had been funny.  She’d told Lynda to shut up and Clara that there were plenty more fish in the sea and that he hadn’t been that handsome anyway.  Funny, she hadn’t been saying that when he’d been standing in the dining room naked, offering to play Twister with her.

Truthfully she had wondered if something had happened to him, perhaps he’d been kidnapped or something.  Really, she just wanted to hope that he hadn’t just toddled off on his own, without thinking about her but it was wishful thinking, if he had been taken someone in the café would’ve seen something and the Tardis would’ve still been there.  For three weeks she’d tried to get on with things, working hard to take her mind off him but not thinking about him was easier said than done.  She was waiting.  She was waiting for him to come back, wondering if he’d turn up at her door, wondering if today was they day she’d find the Tardis parked around a corner.  Frankly it was exhausting but she couldn’t help it.  She couldn’t _not_ wait for him.  He would come back, he had to.  He wouldn’t just leave her like that.  Not after he begged her to _see_ him and asked if she’d stay and help him.

She suddenly realised that she’d walked right past the store cupboard.  Blinking slowly and cursing herself for losing concentration and thinking about him again, she doubled back, trying to remember what she needed to get.  Four exercise books, some more paper clips, green biros and a couple of extra copies of the book her GCSE class were studying, if there was any more in there of course. 

With a sighed, she yanked open the door and came face to face with one allusive Time Lord.  _“Where the hell have you been?”_ she bit out, frowning at him.

 _“You sent me for coffee.”_ he replied, waving the tray carrying two takeaway coffee cups in her face.

_“Three weeks ago.  In Glasgow.”_

He at least had the decency to look a little reticent.  _“Three weeks, that’s a long time.”_

 _“In Glasgow.”_ she reiterated.  _“That’s dead in a ditch!”_

_“It’s not my fault, I got distracted.”_

_“By what?!”_

_“You can always find something.  Come on.”_ with that, he turned and strode off into the Tardis.

Clara stood in the store cupboard, staring through the doors into the console room.  She could just leave, just turn around and walk out of the room and leave him.  In fact, that was probably what she should do but it wasn’t what she wanted to do.  With a groan, which was directed more at herself than him, she followed him.

“You can’t just do this you know.” she grumbled, closing the door behind her.

“Do what?” he asked, glancing at her over the centre console as she climbed the steps.

Rolling her eyes, she joined him.  “Turn up after three weeks, without so much as an apology for _abandoning_ me in Glasgow and expect me to drop everything for you.”

“Well, you got back didn’t you?”

Clara shook her head despairingly.  “Not the point, Doctor.”

He gave a long suffering sigh.  “Alright.  I’m sorry for abandoning you in Glasgow.”

She hummed sceptically.  “So, what happened?  Where did you go?”

“I had a thing.”

“A thing?  What thing?”

“A thing, thing.” he replied vaguely.  _“Why were you smiling?”_

She turned round, covering her mouth.  _“Was I?  No, I wasn’t.”_

_“You were smiling at nothing.  I’d almost say you were in love, but to be honest…”_

_“Honest?”_ she repeated, joining him at the centre console.

_“You’re not a young woman anymore.”_

_“Yes, I am!”_ she snapped, snatching the coffees out of his hands and shoving them onto the console.

He peered at her.  _“Well, you don’t look it.”_

It was a closer run thing, but she managed to resist the urge to stamp her foot.  _“I do look it!”_

 _“Oh, that’s right, keep your spirits up…”_ he paused, flipping a few switches before moving away and sitting on the steps, facing away from her.  “… _Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara.  I need something from you.  I need the truth.”_

She sighed and sat down next to him.  _“Ok.  Right, what is it?  What’s…”_ she ground to a halt, finally catching sight of his face.  Fear.  It wasn't an expression he wore often.  " _…you’re scared.”_

_“I’m terrified.”_

_“Of what?”_ she asked hesitantly.

 _“The answer to my next question, which must be honest and cold and considered, without kindness or restraint.”_ he glanced round at her, his hands clasped together.  _“Clara, be my pal and tell me, am I a good man?”_

Clara didn’t know what to say.  She was completely stumped.  Was he a good man?  _“I…don’t know.”_ she breathed finally.

The Doctor harrumphed.  _“Neither do I.”_ he muttered, getting up and returning to the console.

She got up, feeling unsettled by his question.  _“Er, hey, no offence, but I’ve got plans.”_

He shot her a pleading look.  _“I need you.”_

Her mouth opened to tell him no but the words wouldn’t come, not when he was looking at her like that.  _“Right.  Where are we going?”_

 _“Into darkness.”_ he replied dramatically before flipping a lever, sending them tumbling into the vortex.


End file.
